A Night In Tortuga
by Starzangel
Summary: I gave Jack a bad time in 'Marooned', so now I'm giving him a night of fun in Tortuga. Of course, trouble will always find him, even in 'nice' stories like this! action&romance&angst&possiblehumour COMPLETE
1. Isla de Tortuga

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Title: A Night In Tortuga

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Author: Starzangel

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Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, none of _Pirates of the Caribbean_ is mine. I only borrowed the concept and characters to have fun (but gain no profit) writing this story, which _is_ mine.

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Archive: If you're not FanFiction.Net, then please ask first via submitting a review (leave your email address & I'll get back to you – and most probably say "Aye!").

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Acknowledgements: This story probably wouldn't have ever managed to set sail if it hadn't been for my friend The Prima Donna's urging. Thanks also go to her for beta-reading, and everyone on 'The First Floor Landing' for help with deciding on names.

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Author's Note: This story is set post-'Marooned' (my other story). Though that doesn't really make much difference, other than there are occasional references to Jack having been recently stranded on a certain island for the third time.

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Pirates of the Caribbean

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A Night In Tortuga

By

Starzangel

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Part One: Isla de Tortuga

Behind Captain Jack Sparrow the golden sun was giving a spectacular farewell display; pinks, oranges and purples highlighted the darkening sky and caught the dancing tops of the waves leading up to the horizon.

The pirate captain was stood on the deck of the _Black Pearl_ overseeing the uploading of the last of the supplies onto his ship. Wood, cloth, rope, tar, oil, food, water, rum…Jack had been busy spending the riches he'd acquired from Isla de Muerte. Gone was the decade of the ship's ghostly and cursed appearance; now that her rightful owner had regained control, the _Pearl_ was foreboding and intimidating in her glory.

Once he'd reclaimed his ship two months ago, Captain Sparrow had headed straight back to Isla de Muerte where Barbossa had dumped all of the ship's swag in the cave. He had quickly taken as much of the island's treasure as possible (avoiding a certain stone chest of cursed Aztec gold), knowing that he'd very soon have Commodore Norrington and half the Fleet on his tail if he didn't manage to vanish in time.

After a quick stop to pick up essential supplies, the _Black Pearl_ hadn't dropped anchor until she'd arrived at Tortuga at dawn this morning. Captain Jack Sparrow and his small but able crew, with a hold full of gold, had been content to horizon-chase. Hence, the fastest ship in the Caribbean had managed to completely elude the British Navy. Their only mishap had been a run-in with an exceptionally bad storm, which had left Jack marooned on an all-too-familiar deserted island for the night.

Captain Jack Sparrow had finally brought his ship into Isla de Tortuga to replenish stores and for some shore leave. His crew needed no urging to make haste with the stowing away of the purchased goods, as daylight faded. All of them were looking forward to a night of drinking, gambling and women.

All that is except one.

"Anamaria, are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Absolutely positive?"

"Aye. I was glad t' get off that rock."

"If you'd mentioned it earlier, we could've gone somewhere else."

"It ain't a problem, Cap'n. And who would you get to watch the ship anyways?"

Jack sighed, resignedly. "Well help yourself to all the rum you want," he said, gesturing towards the barrel she'd just brought aboard.

"Aye. Thanks, Captain." 

Jack turned and walked away to check everything was now aboard.

Anamaria smiled as she called after him, "Enjoy yerself, Jack."

"Oh, I will. I will," Jack assured, grinning. A tune began to play along his lips with the odd remembered phrase, often about bad eggs, voiced.

The night sky was a black silk canvas painted with silver stars, casting moonlight over the dark sea, when Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew rowed away from the _Black Pearl_ in boats.

There were excited murmurs from the men over the sound of soft splashes from the oars and the waves hitting the small wooden hulls. However, at the bow of the leading boat, Jack sat silently looking ahead at the nearing gold lights of the town, lost in thought.

They reached the shore and clambered out of the boats.

"Ah, Tortuga!" Captain Jack Sparrow spread his arms wide and drew in a deep breath of salty, smoky air, heavy with the scent of alcohol. He grinned, flashing his gold-capped teeth, and turned to his crew assembled behind him on the pier. "Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" he cried, and elaborately waved his men towards the town.

They rushed past him, their pockets jangling with gold and jewels from Isla de Muerte.

At a much slower pace, Captain Jack Sparrow followed them, taking in his surroundings.

The streets of Tortuga were dark with night and alight with laughter, crashes and smashes from all directions. Women painted with too much make-up and men soaked with too much alcohol filled the roads, taverns and whorehouses, making the three places merge into one. Doors and windows were wide open, inviting anyone and everyone in. Torches and lamps burned, flickering amber light over the chaos that reigned in its most drunken and unbecoming form.

A content smile lay upon Jack's lips as he wove through the ruckus, with his left hand never far from the hilt of the sword strapped to his side.

Coming to the entrance of The Drunken Tortoise, the pirate captain manoeuvred his way past the entwined couple in the doorway and headed for the bar. After carefully avoiding broken chairs, overturned tables, excitable women twice his size, fists flying in every direction and the odd glass bottle turned missile, Captain Jack Sparrow leant against the wooden bar and ordered some rum. A tankard was thumped down in front of him and he tossed a couple of coins down in return, then turned so that his back was pressed against the bar.

Jack lifted the tin mug to his lips, his eyes watching the wild scene before him. The rum burned down his throat and caressed his mind, assuring him that the tiredness he felt would soon be long forgotten and he would have fun tonight.

Lowering his drink, the pirate smiled, amused by how a liquid could quite easily turn him into one of the mindless brawling persons he was surrounded by. It had before and probably would again. Not that he really had more than fractured images (that mainly consisted of close-ups of fists and floorboards) of what occurred during those nights. Concussion could do that to a person's memory.

More often than not, though, Jack avoided the main throng and found himself a nice corner with a girl or two or three. Unless he was seeking information, in which case the girls had to wait until after business had been sorted. Tonight, there was no knowledge he sought and he was out purely for play.

A red-haired girl slid up to his left side and turned her white-pasted face up to look into his, while her right hand snaked up to his shoulder.

"Lookin' fer some fun?" she purred, coyly lowering her thick eyelashes.

Jack shifted around to face her, tilting his head to one side as his looked down at her and smiled, revealing his gold-edged teeth. His hand was reaching for her arm when it suddenly froze, his eyes caught by movement over her shoulder.

He brushed past the girl, muttering a vaguely audible, "Maybe later, love."

Her initial open-mouthed surprise and disappointment turned to a fiery glare, as she turned to watch him head towards a shrieking brown-haired girl at the back of the room, trying to fend off three drunken thugs. She could have done 'damsel in distress' if he wanted, he'd only of had to ask. Yet, the night was still young and so her frown melted as she turned away to find someone else, someone more worthy of her talents than the good-looking pirate.

Captain Jack Sparrow hastily made his way to the struggling girl, pushing and shoving to clear a path for himself. Grabbing a bottle off a table, he came up behind one of the attackers and brought it down onto the man's head, showering him with glass fragments. The hilt of his sword took out another, which then just left one more…where was the brute? 

A rough rope cutting off Jack's air supply informed him of the third attacker's whereabouts. With his hands clutching at the strangling cord, Jack kicked back sharply. He caught the man in the kneecap and managed to twist free, wrenching the rope from his neck. A sharp jab with his elbow to the thug's nose sent the attacker crashing to the floor.

Gasping for breath, the pirate captain sheathed his sword and turned to look for the girl. He found her not far away, downing the remains of a bottle of red wine.

"Are you alright?" Jack inquired, as she lowered the bottle and wiped her brightly painted mouth with the back of her hand.

"Aye, thanks to you," she said, smiling slightly. "I think I'll call it a night though."

The girl moved past the pirate and disappeared from his sight. Jack was left standing alone, idly rubbing at his neck, slightly bewildered until his attention was drawn by Gibbs beckoning him over to a table.

Jack made his way over to where his friend was sat with three other men. The tabletop was scattered with worn playing cards. A winning hand was spread out in front of a tall thin man with sharp features and a shark tooth hung around his neck.

"So ye be Jack Sparrow then?" the thin man asked, leaning his chair back onto two legs and fixing Jack with a narrow-eyed stare.

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," Jack corrected, holding up a forefinger, as he fluidly slid into the empty chair opposite.

"Aye…yer crewman 'ere was jus' tellin' me how ye've commandeered the _Black Pearl_."

"I didn't commandeer her." The pirate captain held the man's hard stare with one of this own. "She was rightfully mine."

"Hmm, I recall somethin' 'bout a mutiny…fifteen years ago?"

"Ten."

"Ah…" The man brought his chair back down onto four legs and learnt forward, his cold grey eyes never leaving Jack's. "I 'member now…yer old crew was cursed by some gold coins. Changed into skeletons in moonlight. Ye've taken the ship, why not the gold?"

Jack frowned slightly. "It's cursed. You just said so yourself."

"Aye, but be it not tha' ye can't be killed when covered by this curse?"

"I assure you it isn't pretty." Jack shifted uncomfortably as he remembered the worst of the curse: the loss of proper sensation, the nothingness, being caught betwixt life and death. "Barbossa strove to lift the curse."

"An' ye helped 'im."

"So I could kill him and get my ship back." Jack rested his elbows on the table and leant forward, tilting his head slightly. "Why are you so interested?"

"No reason." The thin man shrugged, then turned to Gibbs, "So are ye goin' t' let me take yer money again?"

"Oh, I'll beat you fer sure this time, Le Fey," Gibbs said, smiling as he gathered up the cards.

"Wha' 'bout ye, Nedd? You in?"

"Aye." The man opposite Gibbs tossed some coins into the centre of the table.

Jack paid the man proper attention for the first time. He was wiry and had long straggly dark blond hair that was balding on top, with a thin white scar encompassing his neck.

"Captain Sparrow?"

Jack looked back at Le Fey and nodded, straightening up and adding some coins of his own to the pile.

The cards were dealt.

A grunt from Gibbs made it clear to everyone that he'd been given a bad hand, but Jack's fortune was good and he was almost certain to win. Thus, when Le Fey won for what Jack was then informed was the ninth time in a row, the pirate captain was sure the other man was cheating.

When the next game began, Jack decided to use some tricks of his own. His proved to be more effective than Le Fey's.

"Seems your luck's run out, mate," Captain Jack Sparrow said, managing to keep the glee out of his voice.

The thin man's grey cheeks burned with an angry red as he looked down at the pirate captain's winning cards. Nedd stared at Jack in surprise and awe, while a knowing smile hovered on Gibbs's face.

As Jack scraped the coins towards him with both hands, he saw that Le Fey's right hand was twitching in the direction of the pistol holstered at his waist. The thin man was clearly struggling to force himself to remain seated and not yell out accusations.

Pocketing the money, Captain Jack Sparrow rose to his feet. His adversary's dare to make as to leave almost tipped Le Fey over the edge. However, Jack raised animated hands and smiled good-naturedly down at all three men.

"Drinks all round," he promised, and disappeared into the free-for-all that took up most of the room.

Captain Jack Sparrow returned moments later with four bottles of rum and a dark-haired girl on his arm. He set the bottles down onto the table and slid back into his seat. Turning to the girl, he patted his knee and she sat on his lap. The young beauty wrapped an arm around the pirate captain's shoulders and signalled to her friends with the other.

Soon the small table was overcrowded with the four men and numerous women. Bottles were constantly being accidentally knocked to the floor and more ordered. The playing cards became soaked with rum and long forgotten. Jack led the group through a poorly remembered version of 'Yo ho! (A Pirate's Life For Me)', while the dark-haired girl kissed his neck and her hands wandered over his chest and back.

Despite the fact the rum awakened a part of Jack's mind that remembered a couple of lines he couldn't recall when sober, they all soon tired of repeatedly having to "da-da da" the unknown portions of the song and belt out the same lines.

Captain Jack Sparrow looked down at the girl buried in his neck. "Blanche."

She leaned back against the table, her hands lost somewhere in his long black hair. "Yes?"

"Have you ever wanted to be a pirate?" he asked, his hands resting comfortably on her hips.

"I can't swim," she said, picking up one of his hands and lifting it to her lips.

"Nor can half the Royal Navy."

She smiled slightly at this, but shrugged non-committally. "I'm happy here."

Blanche dropped Jack's hand and leant forward to brush her lips against his. Her mouth then hovered teasingly over his lips. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her deeply.

Suddenly, six men who had been throwing knives at the dartboard started to brawl and crashed into the table.

The group was split as they pulled themselves up from the floor and dodged the thickset bodies that scrambled in the place that had once belonged to the table before it had collapsed. Jack saw Nedd dive into the fight along with some of the burlier girls.

However, the pirate captain wisely chose this as the opportune moment to move on to another tavern. He briefly looked around for Blanche and Gibbs, but failed to locate either of them. Not bothered, Captain Jack Sparrow took the nearest girl by the arm and she happily accompanied him to the door.

TBC…


	2. Dark Rum

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Part Two: Dark Rum

Captain Jack Sparrow left The Drunken Tortoise considerably more intoxicated than he had been when he entered. His choice of zigzagged paths was not only due to the need to avoid the continuing mayhem in the street, and his arm, that wasn't wrapped around the whore, waved in mad circles in attempt to keep him balanced. The girl let out raucous laughs as wobbled with him, none too sober herself.

Jack didn't notice the dark shapes following him.

The pirate captain and wench skirted away from a bloodthirsty fight filling the road by taking a narrow street to the left. Several wrong turns later, they found themselves heading into the outskirts of the town. There were few lights, doors were bolted on the inside and shutters latched down over the windows. The girl rubbed her chilled arms and pressed closer against Jack, as they stopped in the centre of a crossroads to regain their bearings.

Suddenly, the girl shrieked.

The moonlight caught the edge of a blade off to Jack's left. A tall figure followed it. The soft tread of boots told him that three more approached from the right.

The girl pulled away from Jack's side and stood trembling behind him for a few moments, before deciding the only safe course of action was to flee. She ran back the way they had come, none of the men moving to stop her.

Captain Jack Sparrow drew his sword, his own blade flashing in the silver light. He inwardly pushed back the effects of the rum and took up a defensive stance, preparing for the first blow to come from either side.

Metal sung through the air from his left. He ducked and rolled forward. Turned around, and sprang from a crouch. His sword struck the attacking blade, pushing the attacker back. With horrid surprise, Jack recognised the man the move brought him face-to-face with: Le Fey.

The man's sunken grey eyes bored into Jack's charcoal-lined brown ones. This was a planned attack.

Le Fey shoved Jack away and stepped back into the shadows.

The pirate captain was kept busy parrying the three other blades that came sweeping towards him from all angles. He could only strain his senses to try to discern where the ambush's leader had moved to. The other attackers were all beefy men who wielded heavy swords, which they crashed into Jack's with such force that the pirate captain feared either his blade or the bones in his arm would shatter under the blows.

Jack danced away from the other blades, trying to get far enough away to be able to turn and make a run for it. Out in the open, he was surrounded and it wouldn't take long before he started to falter as he tired. The odds were against him. A stumble could be fatal.

Finally, Captain Jack Sparrow managed to push back two of his attackers, then used a feint to get past the third. The alleyway was clear ahead of him and he ran.

His sword blocked the soaring blade an inch from his face, as he sharply came to a halt.

Metal glinted again as a dagger rose from the gloom and made for his neck.

Jack dodged, but not quite quick enough. Fiery pain burned across his upper right arm. Grimacing, he staggered back and clutched at the wound with his left hand. Blood seeped through his fingers.

The pirate captain's sword was still raised and his eyes flamed with anger as well as pain.

"What do you want?" Jack growled, glaring at the smirking man in front of him.

"I thought ye'd never ask," Le Fey said, sheathing his dagger and lowering his sword so that its tip rested on the ground.

Jack heard the three other men step into a threatening semicircle formation behind him and then sheath their blades. He hesitantly dropped both of his arms to his sides, his senses still keenly alert.

"What're the co-ordinates fer Isla de Muerte?" Le Fey demanded to know.

"I'm sorry, where?" Jack tilted his head innocently.

"Give me the compass."

Jack's gaze remained steady, refusing to give a telltale glance at the compass tied to his belt. "Could you be more specific? I have more than one. Would it be a particular compass you be wanting?"

"The one tha' don't point North."

"What good is a compass that doesn't point North, eh?" Jack asked, frowning as he lifted a thoughtful finger to his lips.

"That compass will lead me t' Cortés's treasure."

"Really?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Enough games, Sparrow," Le Fey snarled. "Tell me what I want t' know."

"I won't tell you," Jack replied, coldly defiant, and tightened his grip on the hilt of his lowered sword.

"Ah." In a flash, Le Fey's sword flicked up and its tip pressed lightly against Jack's neck. "I think ye will."

"You really want to be cursed?" Jack asked, seriously, with a genuine frown this time.

"Aye. I want immortality."

"Immortality comes with a hefty price, mate."

"I'm willin' t' pay."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Perhaps I'm not bein' clear enough…" Le Fey pressed the sword harder against Jack's throat, not quite drawing blood. "Tell me wha' I want t' know or ye die."

Jack opened his mouth as if to speak and then paused, his left hand hesitantly reaching for the blade against his Adam's apple. Le Fey obligingly retracted the sword a few inches, which was all Jack needed.

The pirate captain brought his sword crashing against Le Fey's, swiftly sinking to his knees. He moved to the side and rose up to his full height again. His left hand drew his pistol from his waist. He cocked it, aimed and fired.

The released bullet blasted through Le Fey's chest and directly into his heart. The tall man fell, dark blood pooling down his filthy shirt.

Behind Jack, the three heavies roared and their swords scrapped out of their scabbards.

Captain Jack Sparrow shoved his spent pistol back into his belt and ran.

Three pairs of boots thudded against the road after him. As Jack reached the end of the alley, a pistol fired and its bullet whistled past his head. The sounds of heavy running steps echoed off the walls, making it difficult for him to tell how close they were getting.

Suddenly, an arm appeared from behind the wall and grabbed Jack's. He was pulled roughly out of the road and into a dark doorway.


	3. Helene Ffoulkes

AN: Thanks again to The Prima Donna for beta-reading!

**Part Three: Helene Ffoulkes**

Captain Jack Sparrow found himself looking into two bright hazel eyes and pressed against a slight feminine form.

"Follow me," her warm breath whispered in his ear.

She slipped out of the doorway and the moonlight caught her face as she turned back to him. Jack recognised the girl he'd rescued from the three thugs in The Drunken Tortoise earlier. He cocked his head and smiled slightly, before stepping down into the street after her.

The girl quickly led him past the front of the house and into another alleyway.

"There he is!" a gruff voice cried, and three sets of boots changed direction.

Jack and the girl broke into a run, a bullet narrowly missing both of them.

Fortunately, the girl knew the streets a lot better than Jack's pursuers and she was able to take him on a crazy and fast route through the maze of dark alleys. The pirate captain was soon utterly lost and couldn't even of pointed to the general direction of the coast, all he could do was trust the girl and run like hell. Jack and the girl were a lot nimbler and smaller than the heavies that crashed after them, which was to their advantage in the winding streets and sharp turns.

When the thudding sounds ceased to follow them, Jack and the girl stopped in the deep shadows beneath a tree and strained their ears. Over the sound of their own panting breaths, they managed to make out the cursing of the men and the heavy steps heading further away from them.

The girl touched Jack's arm to gain his attention and then led him through the streets again, this time at a slower, silent pace. She took him to the very outskirts of the town to a house, which hadn't been whitewashed for a long time. Passing between an overgrown bush and the side of the building, they came to a tiny cobbled courtyard coated with straggly weeds. Jack followed the girl up wooden steps that climbed up the wall to a balcony.

She slid a key into the lock of the peeling wooden door, while Jack stood at the edge of the balcony and kept a sharp eye out for the three men. Nothing moved in the darkness of the outermost streets, save for scavenging four-legged creatures. The night air had an uncomfortable chill without the heat of the torches and lively people that crowded the busy parts of the town.

An increasing throbbing pain brought Jack's attention to the wound he'd received from Le Fey's dagger. Jack pulled his coat back and revealed a growing dark patch on his shirt. He could feel sticky, hot blood running down his arm.

"You're hurt."

Jack looked up to see the girl watching him with concern.

"Not much," the pirate captain assured. He clamped his left hand over the cut and winced at the sharp complaint the pressure caused.

"Come on," Helene instructed, pointing to the now open door. "I'll clean it up for you."

Jack flashed her a quick gold-capped grin, his eyes bright in the moonlight. "Aye, m'lady."

The pirate captain stepped into a relatively spacious room, which must have taken up a third of the top floor of the house. However, it was sparsely furnished and the girl's only room. Everything was clean and neat, but all showed sign of being short in the wealth department: frayed thin curtains hung at the sole window, a tattered rug lay on the floor beside the bed, no pictures decorated the unpainted walls and the limited furniture was rickety and old.

"Sit," Helene ordered, shutting the door and gesturing towards the single chair that stood with a table roughly in the centre of the room.

Jack obligingly slipped off his coat and sat down. He leant back and watched the girl as she lit the wood-burning stove beside the bolted door that led to the rest of the house. The fire brightened the room with golden light and the air began to lose its chill.

"What's your name, love?" Jack asked, as the girl approached him to place a candle with a simple metal holder on the table.

"Helene Ffoulkes," the girl answered.

"Not many people have second names in Tortuga," he said, watching her cross the room and open a cupboard.

Helene poured some water from a jug into a tin bowl and then brought it to the table along with some white cloth and a bottle of rum.

"I've not been here long," she explained, approaching him.

"Well, thank you for rescuing me, Miss Ffoulkes," Jack said, smiling as she reached forward to unbuckle his sword.

"Just repaying the favour, Captain Sparrow," Helene replied, putting the sword on the table.

"So you've heard of me, eh?" His smile widened and he lay his pistol next to his blade.

"There's not a soul on this isle that hasn't heard the tales of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow," she answered, waiting for him to remove his belt.

"Is that so?"

"Don't let it go to your head, Captain," she warned, a grin playing on her lips. "Not all of them's good."

Helene helped the pirate captain out of his long waistcoat and then pulled his shirt off over his head. For a moment, she admired the slender bare torso before her. Her lips parted ever so slightly, as she looked up to meet his warm brown eyes for a second. Then she flashed him a full grin and turned away to put his blooded shirt to soak in salt water.

She came back and perched herself on top of the table next to Jack. Pulling the tin bowl of water closer to her, she dipped a piece of the cloth into it. He then helpfully turned to give her easier access to the wound on his upper right arm.

Fresh blood ran freely down his arm over the top of that which had already dried. Helene wiped this away, washing out the cloth when it got too bloody, slowly making her way up to the bleeding cut. Then she carefully cleaned the wound itself, his muscles unwillingly tensing under her fingers, though he refused to let a wince cross his face or a sound pass his lips. With a wad of cloth, Helene applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

Captain Jack Sparrow was staring at the girl as she tended to his wound. The candlelight brought out the sun-streaks in her long brown hair, making it seem to be interlaced with gold. Her eyes were pretty green-brown pools behind their heavily blackened eyelashes. Underneath the garish red gloss, her lips were delicate and softly curved, and clear pale skin showed through the cracking coat of white she'd pasted over her face.

With his left hand, he dampened a clean cloth and reached up to tenderly wipe her face clean. Her eyes refused to look at him and she swallowed as if nervous, but she didn't move away. Lowering his hand, Jack looked down at the dirtied cloth and then up at the girl's pretty and clear face.

Helene finally met his gaze and answered the questioning in his compassionate eyes, "Life's a masquerade."

He remained silent, but his eyes showed his comprehension.

She released the pressure on his arm, doused the wound with rum and carefully placed a fresh cloth over the cut, binding it tight with another strip. Helene then lifted the bottle to her lips and took a large swig, before putting it back down and slipping off the table to clear up the blooded cloths.

Jack stood up and placed a light hand on her shoulder to stop her. Helene turned around, her body inches from his. He reached for the rum bottle behind her, took her hand in his and led her over to the rug beside the bed.

Jack lowered himself to the floor, resting his back against the bed and his arms on his drawn up knees. He pulled Helene down beside him, took a sip from the bottle and then passed it to her. She took a mouthful of the spirit and slid slightly closer to him.

"Is being a pirate a good life?" Helene asked, staring into the rum bottle.

"Depends on your definition of 'good', love."

"I mean…" She turned to face him. "You're not like a normal pirate, Jack."

"Am I not?" He looked down at the exposed P-shaped brand on his right forearm. "Others would tend to disagree with you."

"That's not what I mean. Jack, why are you a pirate?" She smirked. "What's in it for you?"

"Ah…" He took the rum from her and had a good drink. "Really it's quite simple."

She looked at him expectantly. However, he swallowed some more rum and a little too quickly, judging by the dizzy look that claimed his eyes until after he'd shut them tight for a few moments.

"You like to get one over Royal Navy?" Helene suggested.

"No, well, yes. But that's not the real reason." He passed the rum back to her. "Y'know I had a similar conversation with…" He trailed off, his face darkening. "But don't get me started about that damn island." He took the rum back off her and drank some more.

Helene snatched the bottle from him.

"So what is the real reason?" she persisted.

"Freedom."

She frowned. "You like escaping from the noose?"

"What?" Jack frowned back at her. "No, well, of course. I don't want to end up dead, do I? Helene, you're not getting it."

"Explain then."

"See…" Jack poised his hands in front of him. "See, whenever I want to wherever, I go. A ship…" he paused for dramatic effect, "is freedom."

"But a Navy captain has a ship."

"I'm not one to follow orders, love."

"I understand," Helene said, softly, and smiled almost sadly.

"You thinking of turning pirate?" Jack asked, looking at her strangely.

"No…no, I just…" She sipped the rum. "It's a nice dream. Being able to sail towards the horizon or wherever the wind takes you."

"Ah, you _do_ understand."

"But the world doesn't give that kind of life easily. You were almost hung at Port Royal a couple of months ago. Death follows you like a shadow…"

"Love, you're getting very morbid." Jack frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "You're supposed to say it so I sound amazing and heroic."

"Sorry." Helene drank some more rum. "It's this place," she gestured with her empty hand, "this island. All anyone does here is drink their lives away." She looked down at the bottle in her hand, grunted and shoved it into Jack's.

The pirate captain slipped his left arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his bare chest. They were silent for a few moments, taking it in turns to sip the rum.

"Funny ol' world," Jack muttered.

"Hmm."

He looked down at the girl and softly traced her jaw with a fingertip, then his gentle gaze slid down from her face to her neck to the quickening rise and fall of her chest. She turned and reached up to run a hand over his cheek, drawing his face closer to hers. Her lips hovered over his and he slid an encouraging hand around the back of her neck. She moved closer and her mouth met his.

Breaking apart from the deep kiss, Helene drew Jack up onto his feet and pulled loose the red and white striped cloth tied around his waist. As the cloth fell to the floor, she directed his hands to the ribbon that laced the front of her dress and together they fumbled until the bodice was undone. He reached down and tugged off his boots, loosing his balance due to haste and falling back onto the bed. Helene stood in front of him, slipping her unfastened dress off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Jack's eyes travelled appreciatively over her. He rose to his feet again to gently take her arms and pull her towards him.

Their lips met hungrily and then lust was all they knew.


	4. Morning

AN: Thanks to The Prima Donna and Suzy-400 for beta-reading this chapter!

Also, thank you to those of you who have reviewed!

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Part Four: Morning

Morning light filtered in through the fine curtains and washed over the two figures on the bed under the window. The early light was barely muted by its passage through the material and its caresses on the man's sleeping face brought him out of his slumber. 

Captain Jack Sparrow muttered an incoherent response to the last lingering fragments of a dream and opened his eyes. He blinked against the glare and rolled his head on the pillow to gaze at the woman beside him.

The young light gave the girl innocence as she slept, unguarded by the mask she wore by day. Jack smiled and sighed with content. Helene's features shifted, as she too rose to consciousness.

"Jack…"

"Morning, love."

Helene's hazel eyes were pleased with what they found to greet them and her lips curved into a contented smile that matched Jack's. She slid her arm further up his chest and her fingers played with the longest thread of beads in his hair. Her gaze drifted over his face, as if memorising every curve and line. With slow loving, she took in his moustache and beard split into two plaits each ended with two beads, the red die with white dots at the bottom of the shorter strand of trinkets, the metal disc laid over his bandanna and another tied with thin red cloth to the end of one of the braids in the thick waves of his black hair, the dreadlocks and the long thin bone. A tiny scar cut through his right eyebrow and to the side, mostly hidden by his red bandanna, there were the fading traces of a newer wound. Finally, her stare arrived at his charcoal-lined, dark-brown eyes.

Helene sighed and pushed herself up, untangling herself from Jack and the blankets. He propped his head up with a hand and watched her get dressed.

"Find yourself something to eat," she said, turning and tossing him his breeches. "I'll mend your shirt."

Helene re-lit the burnt-out stove, scrubbed the remains of the bloodstain from Jack's shirtsleeve, and then sat down at the table to sew up the matching slits in his shirt and coat. Meanwhile, the pirate captain pulled on his trousers and found half a loaf of bread, some apples, cheese and water. He perched on the table to eat, as Helene draped his wet shirt over the back of the chair in front of the stove. She returned and sat next to Jack, who passed her some bread.

"Are you leaving Tortuga this morning?" Helene asked, looking down at the food she turned over in her hands.

"In a few hours."

"Where will you go?"

"Not sure. I've been thinking about maybe taking a trip to Europe."

"Freedom…" Helene murmured so quietly Jack only just heard.

There came a crashing sound from downstairs, startling both of them.

"That'll be my aunt returning from Madame Claudette's," Helene said, disdain apparent in her voice. She jumped down from the table and tossed Jack an apple. "Well, I guess you'll be wanting to get back to the docks."

Helene bit into an apple, as she walked over to put out the fire in the stove and picked up Jack's shirt. She passed the damp shirt to Jack, then cleared away the remains of breakfast and tidied the rest of the room, while he dressed and strapped on his effects. He slung his coat over his arm and munched on the apple she'd given him, waiting for her to gather her own belongings.

Helene made to head straight to the door, but Jack moved in front of her and caught her arm. He kissed her once more, and she pressed close to him.

After a lingering moment in the pirate captain's arms, Helene broke away and opened the door onto the balcony.

He followed her out into the bright sunlight and waited while she locked up, then they descended the wooden steps and went out into the street. Jack looked around and worked out whereabouts the house she'd led him to was. He went to move in the direction of the coast, but Helene slipped her hand into his and gently tugged him towards a different road going in the same direction, which was apparently a better route to the docks. Helene's route avoided the main streets until the coast was in sight, thus avoiding the wreckage of the night for as long as possible.

Captain Jack Sparrow paused with Helene on the dockside, gazing out over the glinting crystalline blue waters to where the _Black Pearl_ quietly waited.

"Make sure you don't ever lose that last name of yours, Helene Ffoulkes," he whispered, softly, in the girl's ear. "It's a pretty name."

She smiled and looked up into his kind eyes.

Behind them the door of a tavern suddenly crashed open and three men and two girls nosily stumbled out.

"Jaaaack!" the dark-haired girl cried, breaking away from the small group and wobbling over to him.

"Blanche," Jack reluctantly greeted. He cringed as she draped herself over him, alcohol both stale and fresh on her breath.

"Look fer me next time yer be visitin' this rock," she slurred, kissing his cheek and then almost knocking him over as she struggled with the basics of balance.

"Sure, love," Jack told her. His false grin dropping into a grimace, as she pushed off him and staggered, laughing crazily, back to the group.

Jack turned to see that Helene had stepped away from him, her face twisted with anger and hurt. Her mouth moved as if she was about to speak, but then set into a firm line.

A palm caught Jack sharply across the left cheek.

Helene then swiftly whirled around and stormed off.

"Hey! Helene!" Jack cried after her. "It's not…she… Helene, I'm sorry. Come back!"

"I know, I know. It's this bloody island!" she yelled, angrily, without glancing back.

Helene Ffoulkes quickened her step, turned off into a side street and disappeared from view.

Captain Jack Sparrow sighed and walked down to the pier.

"Upsetting the locals again, Jack?"

He looked down to see Anamaria smirking at him from where she waited in a rowing boat.

"Hmm." Jack climbed down into the boat. "A man never feels unwanted in Tortuga," he told her, dryly.

Anamaria laughed and slid the paddles into the water. Jack looked back at the town for a short while, then turned to face the _Pearl_, all regrets fading from his face as they approached his ship. A smile lurked on his lips and his expression became thoughtful. His gaze shifted to the woman in front of him. 

"Anamaria…have you ever been to Spain?"

~ _Finis_ ~


End file.
